


Lifeline

by ifallonblackdays_fics



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Light Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-26 01:08:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12048162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifallonblackdays_fics/pseuds/ifallonblackdays_fics
Summary: @samdoestuff on Twitter has a thread of Shadowhunters questions she would like answers to. One of them was,"Is Magnus the type of boyfriend who sneakily spells Alec's gear with protective wards?"Thus, this ficlet was born.





	Lifeline

**LIFELINE**

 

  
“ALEC!”

The sun exploded. At least, that’s what it felt like to Alec. For a second, all he could see was bright-crimson red, and then everything went stark white. He was vaguely aware of the fact that he was moving—flying, in fact. He was being literally lifted off the ground and catapulted into the air for quite some distance.

He idly registered the bone-shattering impact of his body hitting the ground. The world was white and there was ringing in his ears. Then the blackness came, and it brought silence with it.

 

* * *

 

“Alec? Alec, can you hear me?”

“Jace, wait. I think he’s coming to.”

“By the Angel…how is he even alive?”

The next thing Alec became aware of was a series of grunting, groaning sounds. He realized that, like the voices, they seemed to be coming from underwater. The moans were sharp, pain-filled sounds, and to be perfectly honest, they were starting to grate on his nerves.

“Easy, Alec. You’re okay.”

“ _How?_ ”

“I don’t know, Izzy! One thing at a time, okay? Alec, can you sit up? Come on, buddy. That’s it.”

_‘Wha—?’_ Sit up? Alec could barely feel his limbs, let alone move them.

Then he was maneuvered into an upright position, and the numbness vanished. Everything slammed into him at once. The pain was excruciating. It was like every single muscle in his body was on fire. He realized then that the moans he had been hearing were coming from him.

The next wave of pain was so overwhelming that it brought nausea with it. He rolled onto his side and retched—painful, dry heaves that brought up nothing but saliva and a whole lot of agony.

“Alec, it’s all right. It’s okay. Breathe.”

_‘Breathe? Are you kidding me?’_ Breathing hurt like nothing else did; it made flames spread through his ribcage.

As the dry heaves subsided, Alec’s senses began to come back. He was half-sitting, half-sprawling on the hard ground of the abandoned warehouse where they had finally tracked down the demons that had been wreaking havoc on the Downworld for the past couple of weeks. Jace was holding him up, one arm around his back and one hand gripping his arm tight, like he was trying to anchor him. Izzy and Clary were kneeling next to them. His sister was looking at him like he might be an apparition.

“What…happened?” Even talking hurt.

“The demons had a little help.” Jace gestured toward a figure lying prone a few feet away. A woman with blonde hair and faintly emerald-tinged skin. A warlock. There was a dagger protruding from her breast that Alec instantly recognized as Jace’s handiwork.

“She…hit me?” He took a deep breath. It didn’t hurt as much.

Clary was drawing angelically charged _iratzes_ on his skin, and they were already starting to do their job.

Jace snorted. “Understatement,” he said. “She fired off a massive ball of red magic. It hit you straight on.”

Alec frowned. “But…I’m okay…”

Granted, his ribs were broken and his body was still somewhat on fire, but Clary’s runes were repairing the fractures, and the rest was just muscle spasms.

“That’s what we can’t figure out,” Izzy said. She was biting her lip almost frantically, her face still pale with shock. “That blast should have killed you.”

Alec looked at each of them in turn. There was an odd mixture of relief and confusion hanging in the air between them.

And then it hit him.

“Magnus.”

 

* * *

 

By the time Alec made it back to Magnus’ loft, he felt more or less like himself again. He still moved slowly and still felt like he had been hit with a sledgehammer. _Iratzes_ , after all, could only go so far, even Clary’s. Still, all in all, he couldn’t complain; he knew it could have been so much worse.

He announced himself with a knock and walked in. Magnus, all but gliding across the room with that easy grace of his, came to greet him as soon as he walked through the door. He looked flawless as usual—dark jeans and a dark burgundy shirt that opened into a deep V on his chest, dark hair spiked up into a mohawk.

Alec’s heart picked up the pace. This racing pulse was familiar wherever Magnus was concerned, and Alec immediately relaxed, the tension and knots in his body already loosening.

“Alexander,” Magnus said, the smooth tone of his voice caressing the letters of Alec’s name. “You’re back.”

He pressed his lips lightly to Alec’s, smiling against his mouth. He was still smiling when he pulled back, but it was quickly replaced with a frown.

“Are you okay?” Magnus lifted a hand to touch Alec’s cheek. “You look pale.”

Alec smiled. “I’m okay,” he said, and he meant it.

He walked into the living room and carefully lowered himself onto the couch. Magnus watched him apprehensively.

“Magnus,” Alec said. “I’m fine.”

“You really don’t look fine, Alexander.”

“I’m just a little sore.”

The frown on Magnus’ face deepened. He walked over to the couch and sat down next to Alec. “What happened? Did you find the demons?”

“We found them.” Alec leaned back against the couch’s cushions and suppressed a groan. “And the warlock who summoned them.”

Magnus’ eyes tightened. “A warlock? Who?”

“I don’t know. A woman. Blonde hair and green skin.”

“Jemima Carrell.” Pure rage flashed across Magnus’ features. He was so furious that his cat eyes made a split-second appearance. “I’ll deal with her.”

“She’s dead,” Alec said. “Jace killed her. She attacked us,” he added for good measure.

Especially after the Soul Sword fiasco, Alec always made sure Magnus knew he had a reason whenever he found himself in the position of having to harm a Downworlder.

Magnus nodded gravely. He reached out with one hand and cupped Alec’s cheek again, then he leaned in and kissed him.

It was soft at first, tender. Magnus lightly traced the outlines of Alec’s features with his fingertips as he kissed him, like his fingers were pencils and he was drawing Alec back into existence. Then it became urgent, passionate, almost frantic.

Magnus often got like that after Alec came back from an especially dangerous mission. It was like fiery touches and hungry lips were the only way he had to reassure himself that Alec was really back.

Alec didn’t mind. In fact, he normally responded with the same urgency, the same need to feel Magnus’ body underneath his hands. The same urge to feel alive and whole.

He did it this time too, back arching as he chased Magnus’ touch—until his abdomen and entire ribcage sent off a fiery protest. Alec gasped and fell back against the couch with a grunt.

Magnus watched him in alarm. “What is it?”

“Nothing.” Alec flashed him a somewhat pained smile. “I’m just a little banged up.”

Magnus frowned again. He reached out and gently lifted the hem of Alec’s t-shirt so that he could spy underneath. Alec let him; he knew there was no use trying to hide from Magnus. Frankly, he wasn’t even sure he wanted to.

“Alexander!” Magnus gasped as he took in the black-and-blue explosion of bruises on Alec’s torso. He looked up in shock. “‘A little’? Your chest looks like a Rorschach test.”

Alec laughed, and then he groaned at the pain even that movement caused.

Magnus’ fingers were already sparkling with blue.

“You don’t have to do that, you know?” Alec said as the familiar tingling sensation brought on by Magnus’ healing magic began to spread through his whole body.

“Yes, I do,” Magnus replied seriously, brow furrowed in concentration. “What demon was this? Should I check for venom?”

“It wasn’t a demon.” Alec licked his lips nervously. “It was the warlock.”

Magnus looked up sharply. “Excuse me?”

Alec gave him a reassuring smile. “I’m fine, Magnus.”

He really was, particularly now that Magnus had finished healing the remaining damage. He sat up straighter and sighed in relief when his ribs didn’t protest and he was finally able to draw a proper breath for the first time in hours.

Magnus, on his part, didn’t seem at all relieved. He was watching Alec with a grave look on his face. Alec hadn’t seen him this distressed since the war against Valentine.

“Alexander, what happened?” the warlock finally demanded.

Alec told him. Magnus turned progressively paler as the story unfolded.

“It should’ve killed me,” Alec said once he was done retelling the events. “That blast of magic should’ve killed me. But it didn’t.” He caught Magnus’ gaze and held it. “And I have a pretty good idea why.”

“Oh?” Magnus said. His voice was weak, strangled.  

Alec placed a hand to Magnus’ cheek and ran his thumb along the warlock’s cheekbone. “Magnus,” he whispered, “did you spell my gear?”

He couldn’t tell exactly how he knew, how he had come to that realization. But the more he thought about it, the more he was convinced that must be what had happened.

Magnus took a trembling intake of breath. “Yes,” he said quietly.

“Why?”

Alec’s hand was now on the back of Magnus’ neck, his fingers running up and down the warlock’s nape in a soothing gesture that he was only vaguely aware of.

Magnus’ eyes were liquid pools as he stared back at Alec. “Because, Alexander,” he murmured, “I may be immortal, but if anything were to happen to you, it _would_ kill me.”

Alec’s heart exploded in his chest. He took Magnus’ face between his hands and kissed him—long and soft and endless. Like time didn’t matter. And it didn’t, because whenever he kissed Magnus, Alec became immortal too.

“Don’t you know, by now?” Magnus whispered once their lips had parted. “You’re my lifeline, Alec Lightwood.”

Alec’s breath caught in his throat.

“And you’re mine, Magnus Bane.” He smiled. “Literally.”

Magnus chuckled. He placed a heavily ringed hand on Alec’s chest and guided him to lie back on the couch. Alec grabbed the front of Magnus’ shirt and pulled him down with him. Their bodies responded to each other’s lead, compliant. Alec knew, for as long as he lived, there would be no more resisting Magnus Bane.

 

 

END


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